Lagoon of Dreams

Chapter 5-2

When I was old enough to hold a crayon between my fingers, I began to reproduce the images I saw behind my eyes, which Nanny showed Mother. Mother patted my head and assumed I had a very vivid imagination and was drawing imaginary things.

As I grew older, she told her friends I had such an interest in fish, I was sure to be an ichthyologist when I grew up. I didn’t know then what an ichthyologist was, or I would have told her the creature I drew wasn’t a fish. It was something my captain friend had often seen on his own world, for as I grew older, I realized these thoughts were coming to me from someone who was not of this planet.

I knew what he looked like; although I’d never actually seen him, I knew. He was very tall and very strong, and he had deep blue eyes and thick black hair. He was the most handsome man in the world, and no matter what I did, he loved me unconditionally.

The sole time I tried to tell anyone about him was when Mary, my nanny, found me staring off into space in my playroom—I should have been doing the algebra problems my tutor had left for me. Although I was four at the time, I’d had a tutor for at least a year and had known how to read and do arithmetic for a couple of years before that.

I was so entranced by the images my friend was showing me that I didn’t answer Mary when she called my name. She became frightened and ran to get Mother.

“David.” Mother’s voice was sharp, and I resented that she drew me out of the “conversation” with my friend.

“What, Mama?”

“Did you teach him that, Marie?” Mother demanded. I didn’t know why she called Mary a different form of her name, and later, when I asked Mary about it, she claimed not to know. It was only as I grew older that I realized both my parents had little use for working class people, even though they depended on them to keep the house running smoothly.

“No, ma’am.”

“You will see he never does so again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“David, you will always address me as Mother.”

“Yes, Ma-Mother.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Now, see you don’t frighten Marie like that again.”

I almost stuffed my thumb into my mouth, but I knew if I did, that would make her cross, so I simply said, “No, Mother.”

“You’re supposed to be studying. Don’t daydream.”

“I’m not daydreaming. I’m talking to my friend about what I read.” I blinked and met Mother’s amber eyes. “He says it’s all wrong, and he should know. He’s captain of a spaceship,” I told her with pride.

Her lips tightened into a thin line. “You haven’t spoken a word.”

“I talk to him with my mind.”

“I…see.”

“Are you all right, Mother?”

“Please complete your assignment, David.” She gave me a tight smile, turned, and left the room. It wasn’t until two days later, after she’d made an appointment for me to see a doctor who specialized in little boys who didn’t leave their imaginary friends behind, that I understood how frightened she had been.

I didn’t like the doctor. His breath smelled sour, and he questioned me repeatedly about my friend, although by that point I knew better than to talk about him.

I don’t want to go back, I told my friend once I was safely in my playroom.

You have to play the game, my fingerling.

I sighed, but because he thought I should, I continued to go back. I drew pictures and looked at inkblots and answered questions about the storybooks Dr. Simon read to me. They were silly books, with more pictures than words, and he grew annoyed when I got up and began wandering around the room.

“Sit down, David,” he snapped.

I sat.

“Now tell me what you think the story means?”

He wasn’t happy with my response.

Dr. Simon began asking me if Father touched me in inappropriate places—”What are inappropriate places?” I asked him, but he simply scowled at me.

“Has he ever spanked you on your bare backside?” There was something about the way he looked when he asked that question that made me uncomfortable, so I said “No” shortly and refused to answer any more questions that day.

“Your son has serious psychological problems, Mrs. Knight,” Dr. Simon told Mother. “I suggest you allow me to bring him to my sanatorium where I can spend more time with him on a one-on-one basis.”

Mother looked hesitant. “Are you certain?”

“Of course I am. I’m a psychiatrist after all.”

“I’ll need to speak with my husband about this.”

Dr. Simon didn’t seem pleased about that, but he shrugged. “I’ll have my secretary make a follow-up appointment for young David. We can discuss this matter further at that time.”

But I was tired of his intrusive questions and told my parents I didn’t want to see him anymore.

“Why not, David?” Father asked.

I was reluctant to say, but he pressed me for a reason, so I repeated the doctor’s insinuations verbatim.

I had never seen Father turn that shade of purple before.

There was a lot of intense discussion between my father and mother. Unseen by them, I lurked just outside their bedroom door and listened.

“For the love of—Catherine! He’s only a boy. I should think you’d be proud he had such a vivid imagination.”

“But this spaceman he claims talks to him—”

“Do you want everyone at the country club to think I abuse the boy?”

The next day, she called the doctor and canceled my appointments with him. From the sound of it, he wasn’t happy, but I breathed a sigh of relief, and never again talked about the friend who showed me such fascinating tableaus. If Mother ever asked about him, awaiting my reply with an uneasy look in her eyes, I would give her a patented child-humoring-an-adult look and simply say, “Mother! I’m too big for that sort of thing now!”

And she nodded in satisfaction. She believed me.

* * * *

“David?”

“Hmm? Oh, I beg your pardon, Dr. Avila.” I blinked and smiled at him. “I must have dozed off.” And as usual, I could remember nothing of the dream, if I had dreamed. “I’ve always enjoyed the ocean, swimming, diving, sailing. It only made sense I’d enjoy studying the creatures who lived in it.”

“I see.”

I broadened my smile and brushed my palm over the mattress. “That was a wonderful experience. Thank you.” I stripped off his condom, taking care not to spill the contents.

He regarded me thoughtfully. As an older swain, more experienced or perhaps simply more aware than the young men I usually let take me to bed, would Dr. Avila have recognized the only way I could come was when I m*********d myself? None of my partners realized I only climaxed during s*x when I manually stimulated my c**k. They were too busy grasping my hips to hold me in place while they drove into me. Or perhaps they didn’t want to know, preferring to think they’d brought me to orgasm with their mighty c***s.

Dr. Avila chuckled. “Perhaps you should call me ‘Carlos,’ David?”

“Of course,” I murmured, but I wouldn’t. What was the point? We would never do this again. Most likely we’d never see each other again.

I walked into the adjoining bath, flushed the condom down the toilet, and cleaned myself off. Finally, I returned with a warm washcloth for him.

“Thank you, dear boy.” He let me wipe my spunk and our sweat from his body, almost purring like a satisfied cat at the light strokes. “Spend the rest of the day with me, David.” He patted the bed. “Here.”

I returned the washcloth to the bathroom, then came out, picked up my clothes, and began dressing. “I must return to campus. There’s a paper I have to finish.” He was easily the best s****l partner I’d ever had: on a scale of one to ten ranking at least a seven, or possibly even an eight. But if I allowed him to sleep with me in his arms…No, it just wouldn’t end well. “Eleanora lets me have the room overnight if you’d like to stay longer. And dinner here is delicious. Terry’s an excellent cook.”

He waited until I had my hand on the doorknob. “What are you afraid of, David?”

I gave him an indulgent smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do. I think you’re afraid, not that I’ll fall in love with you, but that you’ll fall in love with me.”

This was becoming too personal. I upped the wattage on my smile. As it happened, the room was growing dim, and he wouldn’t be able to see that smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Goodbye, dear Doctor.”

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, trying to steady my breathing. No. I would never fall in love, not with him, not with anyone.

I’d slit my throat before I let that happen again.